Once upon a time, I loved to read. I could read books like nobody’s business. It wasn’t uncommon for me to read full novels in a day. I had multiple books going at once and no problem juggling all of them.
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And then, real life hit.
That’s to say, I got busy. I went to college, where I majored in English, and the books I wanted to read were now on the backburner to the books I needed to read for class. When I was done with my work for the day, all I wanted to read were titles on Netflix or tweets on my phone. Reading became less of a hobby and more of something I used to love but no longer had the energy for.
After college, I tried to get back into the reading groove. But I discovered one of the biggest challenges of today’s world: social media. The attention span I once had was gone, shortened by endless TikTok videos and Instagram posts. I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by our smartphones.
On my phone, the second I got bored, I could scroll. With a book, there was no skipping ahead. I would read a page or two and grow distracted, restless, and shut the book.
All of this non-reading didn’t stop me from buying books, however. Now, first and foremost, I have to say: I am a huge proponent of the local library. Use your local library! It’s a fantastic resource. I grew up in the library and still love going in there. But I’ve started to amass my own private library of mildewing secondhand paperbacks and glossy new books, and I love it.
(I should note that “my own private library” sounds a lot fancier than it is. My “library” consists of two milk crates overflowing with books and a stack of books on my bedroom floor that I trip over every morning, without fail. It is not glamorous.)
My friends started to tease me. “You know those aren’t just for decoration, right? You’re supposed to actually read the books you buy.” These haters didn’t understand that there’s just something calming about being surrounded by words, even if you haven’t read all of them.
But that’s my point — I want to read all of them. I love reading, and, frankly, I’ve staked part of my identity on it. When people ask me what I do for fun, my go-to answer is “read a book,” even if it’s been months since I’ve actually finished a book. Admittedly, I’m a bit of a poser.
I do actually enjoy reading whenever I do it. I just hadn’t gotten around to it in a while.
But lately, I’ve been reading more. Over the past month, I’ve managed to finish two whole books.
On the one hand, it’s easy for me to feel disappointed by this, to think, “Well, sure, I finished two books in a month. But in the past, I could manage two books in a week.”
That might be true, but why am I so insistent on tearing myself down? Two books in the past month is better than nothing, and it’s getting me closer to my goal of reading more consistently.
I’m trying to take this mindset into all of my goals. Yes, I may not be exercising every day, but I’m certainly doing better than I used to. I might still drink the occasional cup of coffee, but half a cup is better than chugging an energy drink each morning. The “do your best” mantra is as strong as ever, and I’m pleased with my progress.
I’m riding this reading wave for as long as I can. I’ll probably get distracted again and end up on my phone, and I might set my book down for a day (or two, or ten). But as long as I pick it back up, I’ll be proud of that.
In the meantime, got any book recommendations? Let me know in the comments.
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